TITLE: Soul Survivor

CHAPTER: 1, Survivor Instinct

AN: Part of this story contains an event I know couldn't actually happen. You'll know the part I'm talking about when you get to it. When have I ever held strictly to canon? Where's the fun in that? And there's sex.


"For what shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and suffer the loss of his soul?" —Jesus


A group of warriors lifted their weary heads to watch an unmarked Pelican drop on silent wings from the night sky and land at the Arbiter's isolated camp. The ship didn't bother to turn off its engines before the ramp opened. Commander Palmer shook off her fatigue, pulled her shoulder's square and moved away from the fire to great Osiris and Blue Team. The greeting died on her lips when she noticed the subtle signs of exhaustion. No one but another Spartan could see the stiff shoulders as if the armor were the only thing holding them up. My God, she wondered. What had they been through?

With his remaining strength, the leader of Blue Team dutifully led his squad down the ramp because it's what he always does and tonight it's the only thing he can do. The events of the last few days and months stripped him bare of all objectivity. Like a hollowed-out shell devoid of life, he's empty and running on nothing but the instinctive requirement to complete the mission.

Nature does not tolerate a vacuum, and he does not tolerate emotions that might endanger the success of the mission. Buried beneath the layers of his state-of-the-art armor, simmering just below his awareness rushing to fill this void are emotions he will not know how to assimilate. It's there. He knows it, but he just doesn't know what to do about it. He braced himself for it as if it were an enemy on the battlefield and continued.

Someone approached him from the gloom, and his feet obediently stopped moving. It's a female. As if he didn't already know, his HUD faithfully reported the woman's identity. The woman peering up at him so intently is certainly older than he remembered and smaller. Had it been that long since he'd seen Katherine Halsey? No, he corrected himself, they'd always been taught to address her as Doctor Halsey.

As the first wave of anger flickered into his awareness, he noticed her missing left arm. Although he realized he didn't much care how she lost it. He wondered if it caused her any pain when it happened. Pain? She is ignorant of all its manifestations and he is the master of pain. She knows nothing of the life she created for her Spartans. Once, they feared and respected her. As he watched her face, he realized there's nothing he can think of to say. Should he be glad to see her? Should he inquire about her missing arm? Still and silent Master Chief remained silent surrounded by his team. A few steps away, Locke's blue gaze is trained on him as if he's something on display. What is the man waiting for? A warm family reunion? A hug?

Behind the humans, The Arbiter bared his teeth in greeting. In response, the Spartan dipped his head respectfully. It's been a long time, old friend. Commander Palmer smiled through her own brand of exhaustion. The scrapes and bruises on her face attested to the fact, and he'd noticed her limp. He noticed everything.

If there were an on/off switch for his brain, he'd flip the switch or push the button. He cannot stop observing, scanning and calculating. He processed the meaning of her smile. If it weren't for his helmet, he might try to smile back. An interesting idea, returning a gesture like a smile. Weary eyes searched the remaining faces. Where is Captain Lasky?

A growing helplessness gnawed at his insides and prevented him from his attention from wandering away from Halsey. Why is she still staring at him? What had she just said? That he'd taken long enough to get here? His hand flexed. What would she think about losing her right arm? If he closed his fist around her neck, the vertebrae would snap, and that insipid, meaningless smile would disappear from her face forever.

The mesa is many meters above the desert floor. What might happen if he pushed Dr. Halsey off the edge? How long would her scream echo through the canyon? Would she scream all the way down? Probably not because her surprise at being attacked by her greatest creation would send her into shock. Old and fragile she might even have a stroke. If he punched the center of her narrow chest would the blow stop her heart? He quickly calculated the odds at one hundred percent and closed his fist.

A wave of sadness diluted the rage and washed it away. Armored hands fell to his side. In its wake stood a vision of Cortana.

Cortana!

He'd found her as if she'd just stepped back into his life. Of course, she'd changed. Had he been that naive to think nothing would? The hours of fighting. The countless waves of enemies and the endless teasing as one illusion after another blocked their way finally provoked his suspicion at her motives.

At the end, when they'd fought the last battle at the end of hours fighting when Blue Team understood she could have stopped the waves of enemies at any time. She appeared out of nowhere as if he'd conjured her up to perform a dramatic gesture at just the moment when they might lose this final attack. It was then he realized his Cortana, his girl, was indeed gone. In her place stood a calculating creature with the harsh features of Doctor Halsey. And the armor she wore now. He didn't understand. It was his armor that kept her safe. He'd always been her protector. The desolate silence in his head teased him with the despair of a failure.

Did Cortana think he wouldn't recognize her altered features? She looked older, just as Halsey did now. Instead of his Cortana he'd seen the megalomania of Doctor Halsey glowing in the once expressive eyes. She'd done this to Cortana. It was this old woman's fault. Had that been her plan all along? To use him to put Cortana into circumstances that would further her plans?

He wasn't a child. It was evident the manner of Cortana's metamorphosis wouldn't allow her to come back to him. But he'd tried by attempting to get her to respond to him one last time. The final straw had been her comment about needing to see if she could still trust him. Trust had never been a question between them before—in the past—in the world where the two of cleaved as one. They gave each other the strength, reasons to keep moving and she kept vigil over him while he slept. The Master Chief shifted his feet.

Fred slipped a hand under his arm.

What? Had he allowed something to show? Some behavior no one would approve or understand? He had to get away from the smiling faces and the concerned looks of his team. Away from Linda's hovering. Away from Thel 'Vadam whose presence only served to remind him of their many failures. No one tried to stop him when he headed off in a random direction without knowing if he were about to walk off the cliff. What did it matter? He'd probably survive the fall. This armor protected him from everything. Everything but the loss of what was left of John, the man inside this armor and the remains of his tattered soul. And if the armor failed? Perhaps it would fail. His steps quickened. Betrayal lodged like a dagger in his heart, emptying him as if he were bleeding out from the wound.

Ten minutes of walking found him on the valley floor. The mesas rose above him now, silent, towering, shadows cast multiple forms and multiplied the darkness. The night felt good, it felt safe, and he pulled off his helmet. A thicket of soft grass beckoned him to sit down. A pond reflected his image. What he saw, shocked him. He punched the reflection of the haggard and no longer a young man with his fist. When the water stilled again, he cupped a mouthful of water. A moment of rest. That's all, just a moment and he will return to the others. With his back against a tree, he let his eyes drift closed.

Hello, John. It's her voice. I found her. She's alive. She's walking toward me with a smile of recognition. It's not the same smile I remember. The armor she's wearing. What is its purpose? I never thought of her as naked. Others did, I know because I heard them say it when they thought I couldn't hear. The woman, this new version of Cortana walks toward me stirring a strange and forbidden longing.

Touch me again. Please? Don't tease me about it, just come here and if you put your hand on my chest again. Then I'll put my hand over yours, and this time, I won't let you go. This time, I will find the words to make you stay. It's not too late. We'll go together.

Her face changed again. Tough and calculating now. Where is my girl? Come back. Bring her back.

Touch me, Cortana. Take my hand, Cortana. Stand down. Take my hand, please.

Come home.

Come home.

The dream woke him abruptly and left him lightheaded and nauseated. The violent movement of his legs dislodged his helmet, and he watched it roll down a small embankment into the water. What did it matter? He caught his head in his hands and pushed the dream away. It didn't work. His usual methods for compartmentalizing deserted him leaving a headache exploding like a supernova behind his eyes.

As if to spite his grief the day brightened around him. Birds flitted through the trees feasting on fruit and occasionally coming down to the water to drink. Sleep hadn't helped. The decision to stay out in the open like this was careless. His head pounded hard enough to affect his vision. Closing his eyes against the shards of sunlight, he rested his head on his forearm. He should go back. He should report for duty and check on his team. He had responsibilities.

The sounds of footsteps raised his head. Blinking, he thought he saw a woman dressed in a simple dress kick off a pair of makeshift sandals. Auburn hair swung free over porcelain cheeks. He remembered noticing she'd been injured, and he wondered how her face had become so scratched and bruised. A towel landed on a nearby rock, along with a small bag. The simple dress soon followed.

He should announce his presence. Get up now, before it's too late. But he can't move now because she's naked. She's naked, and it would be ungentlemanly to embarrass her, so he'll wait. Wait until she's in the water, and then sneak away. Sneak? He's in his armor. Be honest, he asked himself scrubbing his face with his hands, which of them is more embarrassed?

He allowed himself one glance. A quick one. Just one. Has he ever seen a naked woman? It's not as if he didn't know what they looked like. There was Cortana. This was not Cortana with her full breasts and ample curves. Something stirred to life, but he pushed it away. The vision of the lithe form stubbornly remained, and he could not stop cataloging. This was long pale limbs and graceful curves over taut muscles. Hair streaked with fire glimmering in the sunlight. The graceful movements of confidence and agility. Strength to match his strength.

She smiled with delight when the water touched her skin. Buoyancy would take the pressure off her injured foot. The water probably felt refreshing after so many hours in the armor. Stop analyzing. Why was he noticing these things now and why does he feel suddenly trapped in his armor as if it no longer fit him properly? He blinked and she disappeared into the crystal blue water with hardly a ripple to show she'd been there at all. He will leave now. He will get up and move away. This is inappropriate on all levels. Pushing himself to his feet, he retraced his steps to the edge of the pool and headed back up the trail.

"Don't forget your helmet, Master Chief."

The voice that called out to him held none of the command tones she typically used stopped him. He heard an absolute acceptance in her voice and before he could argue with himself about all the reasons he shouldn't turn back, he'd already done it and stood at the edge of the pool.

Sunlite droplets of water hung from her hair and shoulders. Master Chief swallowed hard, trying to find a word. Any words. Then she spoke again.

"You discovered my secret oasis. At least, I pretend it's secret and private."

There was no mistaking it now, that was another smile, and she laughed. What happened to Commander Palmer? This sprite tempting him from the water was not the Commander. Women were changeable creatures. He searched his memory for this behavior in Kelly or Linda and found nothing. Therefore, this changeability was dangerous to the mission and not to be trusted. A lesson he recently learned from Cortana.

"Although we are surrounded by Sangheili," she said and laughed again. "Stay here and enjoy the morning. I brought breakfast. You might even enjoy the water."

"I...We must report for duty."

She's just a few meters from him now. He can see those long limbs moving through the water as she uses her arms and legs to hold her position. Like the Circe of the old myths, she beckoned him, tempting him into letting down his guard.

"Not today. We're stuck here for awhile. A few days at least. Captain Lasky managed to get an encoded message through before they jumped to slip space again. We're told to stay put and await orders. Tom is out there playing cat and mouse with Cortana while the brass figures out our next move."

"We should be there."

"I agree, but orders are orders. We'll get our chance. We have a little time, and then I promise we'll be back in the fight. Kelly, Fred, and Linda are in the camp, cleaning their weapons, eating breakfast, keeping busy. Give yourself a minute, at least."

Reluctantly, Master Chief returned to the water's edge to retrieve his helmet. The Pelican that brought them here last night was gone. He cannot escape. He'd never felt this lost, or so empty of purpose. Staring fixedly at his helmet looking for answers until slender callused fingers entered his field of vision and took it from him. He watched it roll to a stop on the grass. The catches on his gauntlets opened and landed next to his helmet. The upper arm guards followed. Then, because he was genuinely too shocked to make a different decision, he helped Palmer catch his chest plate when it fell away. Before he could protest or stop her, his belt and codpiece landed at his feet.

Lungs filled with air for the first time in weeks. Blinking, Master Chief focused on the woman who watched him. He found none of the cold calculation of Halsey or Cortana. The brown velvet of her dark eyes captured his attention, pulling him in as if she dared him to look away.

Definitely dangerous.

Another breath, there was no teasing or snide remark in her eyes, only… what? He didn't even know. Couldn't identify.

"It's alright, Master Chief. It will be alright. I promise," she murmured her hands working the skin-tight collar around his neck.

Another breath.

"That's it. Keep breathing."

She uncovered his shoulders freeing his arms and hands. While he closed his eyes and allowed himself to experience the warm, fragrant air skimming over his bared chest. He moved his limbs enjoying the sensation of the breeze tickling the hairs on his forearms.

"What if Hals—"

"Don't even say her name. Not now. Not here." Without realizing it, she'd placed her hands on his chest to stop him from speaking. It worked. His heart leaped under her hand, chest expanding at the accidental contact.

"You knew I was here," he said forcing himself back to awareness.

"Yes, I followed you last night. After I had watched you fall asleep, I headed back to camp. I brought you some things to get cleaned up and some food. But then I didn't see you. That armor of yours camouflaged you there in the shadows…otherwise, I wouldn't have undressed. I come down here every…"

He placed his hands over hers. So this is what it genuinely felt like to touch another person. Skin to skin. It's a revelation, and he's surprised to find it calming. John carefully and deliberately folded his fingers around hers.

"Thank you."